Take my story, i'll give my heart
by kdlovehg
Summary: First crushes, a meddling sister and a cute male photographer. What else could Katniss need? High school was never a game for this dork but maybe a little flirting & a new diary could encourage her on a whirlwind of dances, competitions & romance. A story between a writer & artist. Who knows, maybe she'll even where a dress once or twice. After all some secrets are worth spilling.
1. The girl

**Series 1 - chapter 1**

 **Katniss' pov**

It was leather, old brown leather with charred edges blending into thick tea stained paper and a tree made out of dark colored thread sown into the cover of the book, alongside a thick piece of charcoal. Nothing like the polished hardback diary with gold trimmed edges and a feather pen that I desired. She thought I'd love it.

"You'll thank me one day" she said. I doubt that day will ever come.

I shove the heavy book in my locker, twisting my strained wrist to check for any excessive damage. The thing must have weighed a pound!

I mentally curse. Why didn't I meet Madge earlier to discuss our little change in communication? I press myself closer to my locker hoping that maybe I could pass through the barrier and hide in the dusty confines of the metal storage unit. No such luck.

"Hey kitty" a high joyous voice announced. Maybe there was a silver lining after all.

"Who are you- oh" another voice interrupts exasperated. I sigh. Glancing over my shoulder I peek at the the owners of the two voices. Glimmer and Clove. Both girls were attractive in their own ways and what the crazed society of high schoolers called chik, yet that's as far as the similarities go. Whilst I've known Glimmer personally - which is the only reason I'm restraining myself from attacking her due to the nickname - its clear to everyone that she's the nicest out of the two; and the prettiest. Where she has golden ringlets and a bright, welcoming smile, the girl only every gets angry when someone insults her behind her back. In contrast Clove is the living embodiment of a black market, the kind of person you'd find in an alley way opening their jacket to try to sell you illegal weapons and drugs at a discount. She's the knife wielding, viscous queen of the school who tries to trick people with her freckles and dark hair giving off a mysterious vibe whilst subtly using her position and power against others.

"Hi" I say through gritted teeth. Maybe Madge hadn't told everyone about the new diary we were planning on getting a matching set off.

"Have you done the homework this week? Its so confusing." Glimmer says, laughing at the end. I open my mouth to respond to her when Clove interrupts.

"So where's the diary?" Clove asks smugly, a smirk lifting her lips.

"I um, left it at home" I say clearing my throat. Stupid Madge, telling everyone before the diaries were even supposed to be purchased by us.

She laughs maliciously and rolls her eyes at my blatant lie, "Sure you did". My hands tighten into fists as I try to force myself to calm down, but what did I expect, my mother didn't really have enough money to waste on such a frivolous item.

"Come on Glim" she says tugging at Glimmers arm, "we don't have time to waste... with her". With her free hand she flicks her hair, impatiently waiting for her other member of the CCP - coal (some twisted version of cool), cute and popular -most likely so that they can join the other ten or so students from the school.

"Oh" Glimmer squeaks as she's dragged down the hallway by her friend. "Good luck with the work kitty." I stiffly nod and push myself off my locker. As soon as I do... a thud echos. I know the loss of my weight on the door has caused my book to collapse and as soon as I open my locker everything will tumble out. My head smacks against the locker with a soft thump.

In the distance I can hear Clove laughing and I twist my head slightly to see her walking beside Glimmer, looking over her shoulder at me. "Bye kitty", she mocks, waving at me with a flick of her manicured hand before reaching into her black cashmere satchel and retrieving the golden diary and pen set. The exact one I wanted.

I scowl at her. My glare intensifies as my hate for her strengthens. Damn that girl.

* * *

I glance at the chipped, wooden clock opposite my bed. The arrows show its 12:45pm or Tuesday morning and I still don't have my homework complete... or started. Its times like these when I curse my scholarship which had actually been awarded to my mother for all the medical procedures and people she has assisted in the community. The assignment I've yet to complete is for English literature and we're currently reading a book made over twenty-five years ago called 'A tributes last elimination' by Commander Boggs and Sir Jackson, a pair who were said to have fought in at least two wars in the past four decades. It was kind of surprising though because our school rarely ventured outside the realm of Shakespeare and historical adaptions of poetry. Apparently teen chick lit and adult romance were the go-to inspirations, probably because anything involving blood would disturb most of the girls causing them to complain for the hour, every lesson.

The book itself is about a tale of twenty four children who would routinely be forced to battle in a fight to the death, almost like an ancient Greek Olympics. The children of the survivor would then begin the next battle sixteen years later. The topic we have to focus on is the pride of an elimination, meaning the last battle between two children.

The task is to answer three essay style questions about Commander Boggs in relation to the book.

Firstly it asked, would you consider Boggs to choose to brutally kill a child of whom would be under fifteen or to kill himself, based on his writing?

Then it asked, does murder make Boggs a hero and a role model or a target to kill?

Lastly it asked me to, use my imagination and create a detailed description of my future child that I would like to have who could go into combat with Boggs or Jackson and provide a detailed description of how, who and why they would win against their opponent.

The first two questions were easy and by 1:30am I had competed four pages of work yet, in contrast the last one threw me through a loop. The first issue is that I don't plan on having children, especially at the age of sixteen, for a number of reasons. Secondly it wouldn't make sense for me to create a child who would lose and thirdly, the thought of creating a child in my imagination who would closely resemble me and then having to brutally murder them or have them murder someone else is painful and sickening regardless of whether or not it was a facade.

I grab the piece of charcoal I had been given earlier and attempt to draw a dark haired, young warrior but with my artistic skills it ended up looking more like a stick figure with an off-center wig and sharp teeth.

I flinch slightly when I hear a knock on my bedroom door. Prim must have noticed the light coming from under my door and escaped mother's room. She usually only does it once a year but with school going on she's probably just stressed out.

I remember a few years ago when Prim was eight and had been having the flu routinely causing her sore throat.

She came into my room wearing dad's old fishing hat and mums formal dress from when she went to her school dance. The hideous bright pink with yellow stripes were not only painful to look at, but it made Prim look like some kind of pinata. She's always doing weird stuff like that. In her hand was also a plastic wine glass filled with a mysterious light blue liquid which she kept waving around spilling some of the liquid all over the floor.

As a little joke I watched Prim sip the liquid before telling her it was mother secret stash - also known as her alcohol - and that if she didn't put it back and clean up her mess straight away she would be in big trouble and the drink would cause all her teeth to fall out when she goes to sleep with mother. The strangest part was that Prim totally believed me, despite already being as smart as a girl my age. Since then she's been paranoid about what was actually in that drink.

I didn't have the heart to tell her it was just cough-medicine. She needed to take it without complaining for once.

Luckily for me though it wasn't Primrose. I push myself off the floor but before I can reach the door its barged open. I scowl at my mother and Haymitch. He's not supposed to be here but judging by the jacket he's wearing and my mother in her pajamas he must have come over last night to talk to her. He's been with our family even before dad left so he acts like a mentor.

"Do you have to come in my room? Its private" I complain. I should have left the homework to before class. Then they would think I was sleeping and not enter my room.

"Why?" Haymitch grumbles "you got any boys in here?".

"No" I say sighing. As much as I appreciate him looking out for me, its still embarrassing how often he thinks I'm talking to boys. Its like he expects I've got a herd of them from school and stashed them under my bed for when mother and Prim are asleep gone to sleep. Not that anyone would fit under my bed though. The closest would probably be a better substitute. "What do you want?" I ask.

"Why are you still doing work this late... or early I guess?" my mum asks tightening her robe at her waist.

"Its homework and if I do it at school I'll get in trouble".

"Is someone distracting you from work?" she questions.

"Must be the boys."

"Its not boys. Its - there's no-one. I'm not distracted. Just. Nothing, I'm fine." I stress running my hands through my hair and glare at Haymitch. So much for being helpful.

They both stare at me which begins to creep me out, before my mother rubs her forehead.

"Well I'm getting tired, so if your alright...?". I nod. Sighing she bids me a goodnight and tugs Haymitch out of the room. I flinch when the floorboards groan under their weight. They better not wake Prim. Silently I cross the room and shut the door, rolling my eyes at their muffled voices but within minutes I hear the front door slam. Haymitch must have left.

I glance back at the clock as I grab some paper and the charcoal, 2:30am. School starts in less than six and a half hours.

I wonder if you still have to see parents and do homework when your locked in a psycho ward?

Honestly though, a mental institution? Doesn't seem so bad.

* * *

 ** _Authors note_ ****_~ hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed this new story, I've already got the next few chapters ready and its loosely based off a series called Dork diaries. Should I continue? Please review, tell me what you think, I love your feedback!_**

 ** _Just posted this cause its my birthday on Monday. I'm on ao3 - kdlovehgk. Wattpad - kdlovehg and kdlovehg at tumblr where in the future I'll be posting images and drawings for this story. Come say hi! Thanks for reading._**


	2. Every Freaking Year

**Series** **1** **Chapter 2**

My nose twitches at the stench of sweat and cheap perfume plaguing the air before my eyes tingle and begin to burn as some students continue to spray in the cramped hallway.

I shoulder my way through the crowd, near-missing an elbow to the face as I duck and dodge the pupils who throw books to one another and the shoes scattered along the wooden floor. As I look at the ground - to make sure I don't trip - I notice a bin hidden just out of site. Usually I wouldn't care to waste my time staring at its contents but I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips because there at the top of the pile, left amongst the rubbish - where I think it belongs - is the school magazine.

In the past we had a school newspaper but as more people have grown up and split off into small groups of friends, it was soon abandoned. No-one read it, it was a waste of paper and in all honesty gossip travels faster than any written post would. Creativity in our school has been dead for years. That being said, as soon as Clove realised that being a teacher's favourite, through buying them gifts - certainly not bribes! - actually came with benefits she decided that rather than just giving up, she could _persuade_ the teachers to go along with her new idea. A magazine filled with descriptions on tips and tricks for life, the 'secret to happiness' and school, which simply meant that it, was a glorified bragging column. Of course the English department loved her idea and creativity, appealing to us _youths._

That was the final boost she needed.

It's just a coincidence that both her ego and her grade shot up.

It's nice to know though, that I'm not the only one who hated the thing. As the voices become louder I move faster, getting to my locker, opening and closing it in record time. Though, not quick enough, judging by the few sheets of work that fluttered down and onto my shoes. I reach down and scoop them up, tucking them back into my book I just retrieved. I scowl, noticing two shoes in my peripheral vision. Why does her locker have to be next to mine?

I stand up, open my locker again and grab my English literature book in case we need to read in class. Slamming it shut, I hide my smile at her slight flinch behind my braid. She shouldn't be in my personal space. Taking no notice of her glare, I rush off to class as the morning bell sounds. Registrations over so I doubt the teachers will let me off if I turn up ten minutes late.

Hooking my satchel across the back on my chair, I slump down into it and drop my book onto the table. My hands rub furiously at my eyes. Despite me being someone who gets up very early in the morning naturally, I blame my parents - my dad especially - for that, I don't recommend staying up till half three in the morning. Not to mention my sleeping pattern leaves much to be desired, so last night I was lucky to get four hours of rest. I guess I should be grateful that I don't mind walking so far to school. It'd be worse if I wasn't used to it.

I sigh, remembering that I have to wait after school so that my mum can meet the new teachers for Prim. Scholarship privileges I suppose. So much for a nap.

"Why are your eyes red Katniss?" a voice asks. I lower my hands and blink away the blurriness to see Madge standing in front of me.

"Didn't sleep well" I reply curtly. I don't bother mentioning the book, yet the guilt in her eyes when her gaze flickers to mine on the table is enough to satisfy me. She got the diary. The mirror copy of clove's I bet. Lucky they have rich parents I suppose. I shake my head as though ridding my mind of the bitter thought. Her mouth opens to say something else but as our teacher walks in she settles for a nod before strolling to her seat at the front.

I push off my feet slightly, rocking back and forth on the chair. I hope the gentle movement will help lull me to sleep. My eyes have just closed when a loud sneeze echoes. Someone calls out "Bless you".

I grimace, paranoid that there's something wet on the back of my neck. Oh I hope he didn't just spit on me.

I stop swinging on my chair and twist around, mindlessly grabbing at my book to hand the teacher our homework. Luckily she doesn't make a comment about me not facing the front. Once she's past us and on to the next row, I begin to notice him.

 _Oh no._ Not this year as well.

His nose is a light pink and his blue eyes are wide as he watches me. He looks so innocent. I'd think so to if it wasn't for the fact that for every year since pre-school he's sat near me. _Every. Freaking. Year._

I raise my eyebrow. Why is he looking at me? His blond curls peek out from beneath his blue wool beanie. I wonder if he purposelessly tried to match it to his eye colour. Not that I care. He failed at replicating it either way. Realising I've been staring at him for a while I panic and the words leave my lips without permission. "You're not allowed hats in class".

I cringe at my tone. It sounds like a snide remark. Nobody even cares about the school rules anyway. Then again, why bother come into school just to make everyone else sick? And why do it and always sit behind or beside me when there are at least four other vacant seats? He tugs it off and smiles at me, shrinking into his chair bashfully.

I turn away and scoot my chair in. I don't even register the heat from my cheeks.

* * *

 ** _Authors note_ ****_~ hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know its a late update, I just have so many stories but I know the next few chapters and I'm hoping to update some of my other stories. I'm posting it just under a year later... sorry. At least its near my birthday though. :) And yes, Katniss and Peeta now each other. (And are kinda shy...) Please review, tell me what you think, I love your feedback! Thanks to those who have followed this._**

 ** _I'm also contributing to Mores2sl which is an amazing way of donating to charities in order to read a load of everlark and non - thg fics. So if you're interested check the page out on tumblr or their website, because who doesn't love quality everlark. :)_**

 ** _I'm on ao3 - kdlovehgk. Wattpad - kdlovehg and kdlovehg at tumblr. Come say hi! Thanks for reading._**


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